


Finally home

by FangirlWolfie



Series: VCD [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Getting Back Together, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-12
Updated: 2018-03-12
Packaged: 2019-03-30 09:49:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13949025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FangirlWolfie/pseuds/FangirlWolfie
Summary: Sirius regrets so many things. But most of all he regrets one thing. A thing that's not really a thing at all but rather a Moon. A wonderful, wonderful Moon.It's time to do something about it.***This is a short continuation about Remus and Sirius after the happenings in "Purple Words." I highly recommend that you read that first.





	Finally home

“I’m not getting a divorce Sirius.” Mary sounded everything but kind, she sounded like gravel and nails on chalkboard. Sirius tried to fight it all out, to stand tall and impassive despite the silent storm raging in the room. He thanked the heavens Leo wasn’t here to witness it.

“Mary,” and Sirius hated to do this to her, he really did. After seven years of marriage it was almost cruel in a way, but he believed this best for both of them. Or rather all three of them. “There’s nothing left. I haven’t even seen you properly the last four years.”

“So it’s my fault?”

Mary was kind in the beginning Sirius remembered. Rosy cheeks and dangerous dimples. Her voice had soothed something jagged inside of him and he’d believed her enough. Enough for him to be happy, enough for him to start over with, a new less fucked up family. Of course it hadn’t worked, of course he’d never felt this much like drowning, not even when Harry had gone away. He shouldn’t have left Moony.

Sirius felt choked up just thinking about it. But dark thoughts like these were for late evenings in empty houses, not in the middle of a fight. A fight like any other, and yet completely different.

“It’s not your fault. It’s not anybody’s fault.” Sirius wanted to be reasonable, wanted to make Mary see what was right in front of her. Misery, pure misery. “But we can’t stand each other Mary.”

“Is this because of Seth?” Mary tapped her foot against the floor, her locks wild around her heart-shaped face. “You forgave me three years ago. We decided we would move past that.”

Sirius didn’t like to be reminded of Seth. “It’s not about you fucking-”

“Don’t you dare be crude,” Mary sounded deadly where she paced back and forth in their living room, her back rigid and mouth twisted in a snarl. She’d seemed different in the beginning, had been different Sirius reckoned. They’d slowly but surely destroyed one another.

Sirius refused to live the rest of his days hating his life. He was old after all, fifty-five years old.

Christ, he _was_ old.

“I’m forty-five,” Mary continued. And it was all true, she was young enough to find someone new, someone like Seth. “I’m not letting you break up with me now. I’m not getting a divorce at fucking forty-five.”

“Mary,” Sirius wanted to convince her, had tried to countless of times before. “You hate me.”

“You’re being a child!” her lips were an angry red, almost like the blood that doubtlessly boiled inside of her.

“I’m trying to talk to you!” Mary sure could rile him up. And how he’d believed her a calming force in the beginning. Someone who would sooth him yet adore his antics and loud laughter. He’d been spoiled for so many years, so many years with Moony’s adoration. Of course Mary would be different.

God, he wanted back. Back to Grimmauld Place. Back to soft curls, warm cardigans and the smell of tea. His shared house with Mary was just cold. Cold and lifeless, more of a prison than a home. It was always empty. A place for the lonely.

“And you’re not listening,” Mary shouted back despite that it was she that wasn’t listening. “We have a son, Leo! You want him to grow up with divorced parents?!”

“Mary, stop kidding yourself,” Sirius couldn’t hold himself in check, wasn’t sure if he even wanted to. “Leo has grown up _without_ parents! We’re never home!”

“So just because I want to advance my career I’m suddenly a bad mother-”

“I’m not saying that!” Sirius had an uncanny urge to laugh. “But you’re away Mary, I’m away, and Leo doesn’t even want to go home anymore. He… He doesn’t think of this as home and I don’t either.”

Mary looked momentarily silenced, her face marred by deep and sad lines. Sirius couldn’t help but wonder once again what they’d done to one another. How they’d allowed them to slowly but surely start resenting each other, distance growing at the same rate as hatred.

“Mary,” Sirius was pleading. “I know you don’t want to divorce, I know I fucked up your life-plan. I know all that. But Mary,” Sirius tried to be sincere, tried to hide nothing in his worn silvery eyes, “I’m tired.”

Mary exhaled slowly, still not answering.

“You’re younger than me May,” he said softly, even using the nickname which he’d called her by in the beginning. “Your life isn’t over just because we get a divorce.”

“I just,” Mary sounded far away. “I was just supposed to have a family.” There was a tremble in her voice. “Is it something wrong with me?” Her voice turned choked. “Everybody else has it. Why can’t I. Fuck…” Sirius felt a bitter taste in the back of his mouth even as Mary continued: “Am I that unlovable?”

Sirius stepped forward, aware of how he might not be welcomed right now. “You’re smart Mary. You know that’s not it. That sometimes people don’t work together.” Sirius felt fumbling even as words spilled past his lips. “We didn’t get together for the right reasons anyhow, of course we wouldn’t work.”

Mary, still standing straight, wiped away a tear from the corner of her eye. “I can’t get divorced,” he voice was almost a whisper.

“It’s not a game,” Sirius pressed. “You don’t lose just because you give up. It just gives you a chance to try again.”

“What will they say at work,” Mary was far away, almost as if she didn’t care that Sirius was right next to her, trying to comfort her. Sirius felt a stab at hurt, a stab of something close to resentment. No wonder he’d ended up hating his life, hating himself just as much. A shitty husband and an even shittier father. Leo had called him _Sirius – not dad –_ last time he’d seen him.

“What does that matter May,” Sirius tried to put a calming hand on her shoulder. He should have known better. Mary was spinning around and before he could register she’d slapped him hard across his cheek.

Mary hadn’t hit Sirius before and the slap was staggering.

“Seven years,” she spat out, all fire and fury. “I’ve wasted seven years on you.”

Sirius hardened instantly, of course he did. That was what they did to one another. “Not only you!” He didn’t want to scream at her, didn’t want to hurt her the last he did. But there was so many feelings inside his chest, and they all demanded to be heard. The slap had just worked as an unfortunate catalyst. “I’ve been stuck with a wife that hates me, who rather fuck a stranger than be with me-”

“Fuck you Sirius! Truly-” Mary was crying.

“A wife who’s never home, who works all the time, who don’t care for our son! Our _son_ Mary!”

“You’re not better,” Mary seemed to tower and crumble at the same time. It was dizzying. “You’re always away and you keep walking on eggshells! How am I supposed to talk to my husband if he’s always so fucking careful?! Of course I’m going to cheat on a husband that never fucks me!”

She was purposely goading. Sirius recognised it. Had fallen into that very trap too many times to count. The trap that was he and Mary having an argument and the next second having sex. And then Sirius would lie there, sated and confused and Mary would pat him on the cheek and leave before he’d gathered his bearings. No wonder they hadn’t gotten a divorce. Mary always knew how to get her way.

But not this time.

“I’m not going to fuck you Mary,” Sirius was cold, imagined him being Winter himself. “I’m never going to fuck you ever again.”

And Mary wasn’t happy with that answer. She wanted mouths to be clashing and limbs tearing, she didn’t want Sirius standing back coolly. She snarled again. “It’s because of Remus isn’t it?”

Sirius would have rather cut off his own arm than discussing Remus this particular moment. “Mary,” there was a warning in his voice. A warning he usually reserved for criminals wielding guns. “Do not talk about Remus with me.”

“I always did wonder if you were fucking him,” she went on as if she couldn’t care less about Sirius cracking heart. And since they hated each other, wanted to bring the other nothing but pain, that was maybe the case. “I keep imagine that maybe when I was away you and him would cuddle up with Leo like a real family. Leo sure seems to care a whole lot more for Remus than any of us.”

Sirius couldn’t breathe. Just couldn’t. “Of course not,” he choked out, because of course he hadn’t been that lucky, but also, of course, he’d never do that to Remus.

And that was the fucked up part. He would never do that to Remus, but _Mary_ on the other hand… He didn’t care about Mary. Hadn’t really cared about her for six years.

“What is it Leo always calls him? Moony or something? Sounds awfully like mummy.”

“You can’t be serious,” he spat out, his heart slowly dying inside his chest. It had been real once, them, hadn’t it? With Harry. But he’d walked away from that. And for the rest of his miserably life that would be his cross to bear.

Mary was walking towards the cabinet further in the room. Opening it violently, casually, and grabbing hold of a wine-bottle. “I always suspected it of course.” She’d gotten the bottle open and took a long sip, drops of red escaping at the corners of her mouth. “You would never do me the honour of just fucking a pretty blonde twenty-something. Instead you had to go and fall in love.”

Sirius didn’t feel his arms or legs. Actually, his whole body was numb.

Mary suddenly laughed, a horrible laugh that carved itself into Sirius very bones. Then she threw the bottle across the room. It hit the wall, splitting into millions of pieces. In the middle of their cold and lonesome living room, it was raining red.

“Not only that. You had to give away our son as well,” Mary looked like she wanted to die. She looked like she truly wanted to find something sharp and end herself, Sirius suspected he didn’t look much better. “Was that all I was,” she sounded far away. “A womb?”

“I was your last option,” Sirius' voice was barely there, it has left this planet, lucky bastard. “And you don’t want me. You don’t want Leo.”

Mary wasn’t saying anything.

“You got yourself a family and now you’re regretting it. Regretting us,” the words tasted true on Sirius’ tongue.

In a way, Sirius wished for Mary to accuse him of lying, of telling him all this was wrong. Pretty much as Mary probably hoped he would deny loving Remus. But of course, Sirius wouldn’t. He was sick of lies.

“When I was younger I was engaged to this dashing young man,” Mary whispered, her eyes a void. “He was a cop like you. He died on the way home. A fucking mugging gone wrong.”

Sirius didn’t say anything. He was just trying to feel something else than the eerily feeling of fading away.

“It’s funny,” Mary said without a drop of humor in her voice. “How I thought you would be enough.”

Enough. Like Mary might have been enough alike Remus for it all to be okay. Like Mary might have been enough to sooth Sirius’ soul during dark nights. Like she wasn’t enough, would never be enough. Not compared to Remus.

“I want a divorce,” Sirius said after eons of ringing silence.

Mary didn’t answer for a while, just quietly contemplated the mess that was their intertwined lives. “I think I want one too.”

***

Sirius slept at Harry and Draco’s. Leo was still staying at Grimmauld Place seeing as he practically lived there. Sirius couldn’t help but sometimes wonder when exactly he’d lost his own son.

At least he still had Harry. Harry who had welcomed him with open arms, Stella clinging to his leg with a big beam.

“Pads,” she’d squealed, her dark locks framing a round face with chubby cheeks. Her eyes were a deep and soothing brown. She looked plump and happy, almost shining in the midst of Sirius stormy world.

“Hello pup,” he’d managed to get out, his voice choked.

Then Harry had looked at him, smile dimming a bit. “Pads?”

He was big, Harry. And it was nice, all that broadness to lean against as you slowly but surely broke down, as Sirius slowly but surely let the damage left by the storm show.

“Fetch papa,” Harry had told Stella before his arms had circled Sirius, holding him together.

“We’re getting a divorce!” Sirius had wailed, dignity long gone as he clawed at Harry’s broad chest, desperate to hold onto something. “And I should be happy…”

He wasn’t happy, he was crumbling, like a once great mountain. He was fifty-five and he was getting a divorce, why did that feel a bit like the end of the world?

“Of course you shouldn’t be happy,” Harry had just breathed, hands carding through Sirius’ hair. Christ, it had been so long since anyone touched Sirius with even a hint of softness. “Of course you’re going to cry.”

And that was what Sirius had done ever since.

Even when Draco had come down, his face a bit worried with Stella holding his hand and Eos squirming in his arms. “Harry?”

“They’re getting a divorce Draco.” Harry had answered even as Sirius had cried harder. Mary had said she’d wasted seven years of her life on him. Had it been a waste? Had he really been so stupid as to throw away years, precious years because of some misguided attempt at finding lost happiness?

Draco and the kids went over to Grimmauld Place for the night. Harry had then invited Ron over and they’d decide to get plastered. Well, it wasn’t really Harry and Ron who’d decided they should get plastered but rather Sirius himself. He did have some good ideas after all.

The buzz of alcohol was almost immediately making him calmer, making everything fuzzy and dull. Even the pain. So Sirius kept at it, kept spewing out pathetic words that were more about Moony and Leo than Mary herself. He talked about how he’d wasted years, about how he’d wasted his heart, wasted his son.

“Leo is wonderful.” Harry was trying to say to him but Sirius didn’t listen. Not really.

“He hates me,” he whimpered into Ron’s neck, arms flung uselessly around strong shoulders. Ron sure was a champ for taking Sirius’ crying, his wailing and his incapability to handle the pain, the storm of pain inside of him. “Mary might take him.”

“She won’t,” Harry’s hands were massaging his back. Which was nice, which was really, really nice. “Leo wouldn’t stand for it.”

“He’s so independent,” Sirius muttered even as he took another sip of the beer in his hand. He hadn’t bothered with a glass, he’d settled for drinking straight from a bottle. “Doesn’t need Mary nor me… Only needs Moony.”

Sirius was a bit gone but even despite that he could feel how Harry and Ron exchanged a look over his head. He didn’t have time to decipher it. Didn’t have the patience to worry about the fact he saw his son almost less than he did his wife. His son, his flesh and blood.

Harry was also his son. A son he just saw a couple of times a month. But Harry was also an adult. And yet…

“I miss you Harry,” Sirius couldn’t help but whisper into Ron’s neck. Perhaps he should switch necks? But then again, the only neck he really wanted to press into was Moony’s. “I’ve been so far away.”

“It’s okay Sirius,” Harry’s hands kept rubbing his back, so, so gentle. “We knew you would come back. We all love you.”

Sirius didn’t really think he deserved any _love-yous_ , didn’t think he deserved Harry and Ron comforting him and holding him even as he was getting more and more pissed as the night went on. He’d been out of town too much the last couple of years. How he’d ever fooled himself it was making him happy was a big fucking mystery. Maybe he just hadn’t had the strength to deal with his marriage? Maybe he just hadn’t had the strength to deal with what his life had become. Empty. Dull.

He wondered if things would get better after divorcing Mary? It had to. He didn’t quite know what to do otherwise.

“Maybe you can start taking cases closer to home,” Ron muttered, his throat moving underneath Sirius’ cheek. “Don’t disappear for weeks to fucking Glasgow…”

“Or Dublin,” Harry added.

Sirius hated how transparent he was. How they’d seen it all clearly despite how he’d fallen over himself to make up good explanations and excuses to why he was away. Just as Mary had been away. Just as Moony had raised his son, Leo, far away from him.

“I miss Moony.”

Ron’s breath stuttered.

“I know you do,” Harry whispered even as he continued to pet him.

“I miss him so, so much you have no idea.”

“I think I have some,” Ron muttered from above.

“You really, really don’t.”

Because he couldn’t possible know the times Sirius awoke in the middle of the night missing Moony. Couldn’t possible know how he’d regretted walking out, regretted staying away. He’d just been so angry, so afraid of losing Harry. At the end he’d simply been afraid of losing Moony.

Which he had.

Of course he had.

Sirius was just one fuck up after the next. His mother had told him so and apparently she’d been right. Apparently, she’d looked at his nine-year-old self and seen what was to become of him, seen it with such fucking clarity. Him, failure, misery.

It was a wonder she hadn’t drowned him when he was a baby, just as to not prolong his suffering.

Sirius mind continued stumbling in the dark the entire night. But he was never completely lost to the demons and monsters tearing at him from all sides. Because right along with him was Harry and Ron, and they helped. They honest to god helped. And as they held him Sirius couldn’t help but soak in their warmth, in their kindness.

The world could be so impossible cold without this, soft touches and reassuring words. The world had been cold, cold for years.

Morning wasn’t pretty.

Morning was headache and vomiting and Harry and Ron coddling him and making him greasy breakfast while bickering about the crisp of the bacon.

“That’s good enough, it needs to be greasy.”

“No Ron, crispier is better!”

“Harry greasy is better!”

“ _But crisp Ron!_ ”

“That’s not even a command stupid!” Ron had been laughing. Harry had too. Sirius had felt closer to something bright instead of dark and that had been enough. The bacon had been more greasy than crispy, Sirius thanked Ron in his thoughts even as he ate away his hangover.

Later on, they watched a stupid horror movie about a couple of college kids stumbling around outside in the woods. Sirius and Harry did more laughing than screaming while Ron for some godforsaken reason started fending off evil halfway through the movie by doing strange gestures in the air.

“It’s a cross!” he declared after Harry had asked him what the hell he was doing. “Look.”

Ron did the same gesture again. Sirius squinted, wondering how the hell anyone could think of the strange hand movements as a cross.

“Mate, you ain’t doing crosses.”

“But I do!” Ron smacked a pillow in Harry’s face and for a blissful moment Sirius laughed. His chest loosening and that heavy lump in his throat gone. It only lasted a second of course, before it all came rushing back. But it had been worth it. It had.

The rest of the noon passed quickly accompanied by two lovable idiots. Just being close to them made Sirius chest tighten as he questioned why he’d spent such a long time away. Why he’d withdrawn from the only true family he’d ever had? It all made him miss Moony, miss him something terrible.

It was at the beginning of the afternoon when Harry nudged Sirius, eyes void of joy and more sober than before. “So,” Harry said. “Are you going to tell Leo?”

It was uncomfortable, how fast Sirius’ heart started to beat faster and yet slower at the same time. Stopping almost. Right, Leo. His son.

“I’ll have to,” Sirius decided. “Mary… I don’t know where she is or what she’s going to do… But I don’t think she’ll tell him… I don’t even know if she wants to see him again.”

Harry bristled at that. His jaw locking even as he reined in the obvious anger coursing through his blood. Still, he couldn’t suppress a small growl, his fist clenching.

Sirius wanted to hold him, sooth him. But Harry was older, bigger now than before. Sirius wasn’t exactly able to hold him in his arms anymore.

“I should call… I should call Moony,” Sirius sounded hesitant. Couldn’t really help it. Moony, _shit_. His heart trembled.

“It’s fine Pads,” Harry muttered, suddenly hugging Sirius close. “We’ll go over to him, I think that’s for the best.”

Sirius wasn’t sure, he was just scared. A bloody coward really. How long had it been since he last saw Moony? A month? Two months? He’d started to feel more like a memory than an actual living being. A misty momentum of a brighter time, a happier time. Perhaps the happiest time of Sirius life. It was staggering, realising the best wasn’t to come, that the best had already happened.

Remus with his soft smile and long fingers. Remus when they’d been young and kissed. A New year, so may years ago. Remus had looked beautiful in the moonlight, his cheeks red from the cold and eyes glowing. The kiss had been brief. Sirius hadn’t enjoyed another kiss before or since more.

Too bad he’d been too young to get it. Too young, stupid and cocksure. Maybe something could have happened? Then or all the times afterward if he’d just taken a chance… Fuck.

“Go over,” Sirius’ voice was small. Strange, usually his voice was loud, overbearing. Strong enough to make criminals freeze in flight, strong enough to be heard over thunder.

Harry squeezed him closer. “Yes, go over. Remus has missed you just as much as you’ve missed him. I promise.”

Sirius doubted that. Doubted that Moony would ever look at him again. He only made Moony sad, only disappointed him. What did he think of Sirius now? Raising Sirius’ son because Sirius was a shitty father? He couldn’t possibly think highly of him that was for damn certain.

“I guess we can drive over,” Sirius breathed out despite how his heart felt stuck in his chest. _Moony, he would see Moony_. “I think… I think it’s for the best that I talk to Leo…”

Harry smiled at him. A true smile. “Let’s go.”

***

It was almost haunting walking up the steps to Grimmauld Place. It was his family home, a place he’d despised for so many years. But it was also where he’d lived some of the happiest years of his life, raising Harry, living with Moony. Just thinking about it made him misty-eyed, made him want to open the doors to find tiny Harry running about and a younger Moony telling him that dinner was ready.

God, he trembled. It would be pathetic if he were to simply fall to his knees of nervousness, yet, the possibility seemed all too real standing here. Standing in front of the gate to this place of dreams and nightmares. Grimmauld Place.

Harry didn’t knock. Instead, he fished up a key, easily opening the door. Sirius swallowed nervously even as he stepped through. He was struck by a sudden panic as he saw his reflection in the mirror across the hall. He looked quite pathetic. Eyes red and hair tangled. He had a three-day stubble that wasn’t flattering, at all. Christ.

“I look a mess,” he choked up. He didn’t want to look a mess, he wanted to appear capable, calm.

“Of course you are a bit of a mess,” Harry just soothed him, running a big hand through Sirius’ ruffled hair. “I would even claim that being a mess is expected considering the circumstances.”

Sirius nodded gratefully. Harry was kind, Harry knew what to say. “I suppose,” Sirius breathed out shakily. “And to think I’m supposed to be the older, more mature one.”

Harry barked out a laugh. “Well,” his eyes twinkled. “Suppose the student had to become the master at some point.”

Ron snorted behind them. “Don’t give him too much credit Sirius. He still leaves his clothes on the floor.”

“Harry?” A familiar voice was calling from down the hall. Sirius relaxed as Draco came into view, shirt casually rolled up over his elbows and a streak of flour on his face. He appeared to be in the middle of a bake-off.

Harry stalked towards Draco with his usual eagerness, sweeping in and close to merging Draco’s body with his own. Mouth seeking mouth and moving hungrily.

“Jesus Christ mate,” Ron just sighed from behind, putting a friendly hand on Sirius’ shoulder. “You would think they’d stop molesting one another after being married for four years but _noooo.._.” Ron shook his head with a smile. “I mean, I’m lucky if Hermione greets me like that once a month…”

Sirius just nodded, something painful tugging at his chest. “Yeah,” he sounded a bit choked up maybe because Ron fell silent, opting for squeezing his shoulder instead of talking.

“Everything’s going to be fine,” he reassured Sirius with a certain voice. “Come here let the two idiots run out of oxygen by themselves.”

They walked by Harry and Draco. Draco was busy being pressed into a wall with Harry almost engulfing him. His forehead was resting against Draco’s as Harry whispered sweet nothings to him. Draco was rolling his eyes but the smile on his lips was threatening to crack his face in two.

Sirius was happy for them. Truly. But at the same time it ached. Because he wouldn’t have that. And he wanted it, wanted it rather desperately.

Sirius wasn’t prepared to see Moony in the kitchen. He just wasn’t.

He’d for some reason imagined their reunion dramatic. After all, Moony was a very dramatic presence in his mind, more a mirage than a human at this point. But there were no drums, no swooning violins. Instead, there was Moony with flour all over his face, simply kneading a dough.

And yet, Sirius had never seen anything more beautiful in his entire life.

Moony looked up from where he stood bent over the dough, a smile plastered all over his face. A smile that reminded Sirius of the sun rather than the moon. The sun breaking out through heavy clouds, making people close their eyes and turn their face upwards, basking in the warmth of it. Sirius couldn’t help but bask in the warmth of it.

“Oh,” Moony’s voice was surprised but there was no coldness in it, no detachment. His smile didn’t turn stiff and plastic nor did his eyes flicker away from Sirius’ face. For a moment Sirius just wanted to go over and hug Moony, hug him and inhale that warm scent of his, the scent of tea and books. Instead Sirius found himself slightly frozen. Just standing there with half a smile on his bewildered face.

“Remus!” Ron called out after a beat of silence. “Nice to see you again!”

Sirius watched as Ron walked past him into the kitchen, hugging Moony quickly before heading towards the fridge.

“You got food around here? Sirius, Harry and I haven’t eaten yet.”

“Yeah,” Moony was still looking at Sirius, his eyes a bit unsure. Sirius wondered if he should be scared, if he should steel himself for something. “Of course we have loads of food. I’ll heat something for you.”

His voice was so nice, Sirius just wanted to stay here and listen to it forever. It soothed his jagged heart, Moony soothed every corner of him… Because here, in their kitchen, the darkness was so far away.

“It’s okay,” Sirius found himself speaking. “We fix it by ourselves, you don’t need to bother.”

“It’s no bother,” Moony was still looking at him, his eyes warm. Like molten honey. “Just let me wash up.”

Sirius took a hesitant step forward even as Moony washed off the flour and dough from his hands. He had a hard time taking his eyes off Moony. Off his soft curls, his familiar cardigan, his even more familiar face and the way he looked calm, silently happy. Sirius wanted to be happy again. He remembered a time when he had been… It had been so long ago.

Being sad was exhausting. And he had been exhausted for years.

“Hey,” Moony dried his hands easily. There was a slight scar on one, a burn from years ago. Sirius could still remember how his heart had frozen, how he’d ached to go near, to do anything, but he hadn’t been sure if his help would have been welcomed. Not after he’d left Moony, after he’d screamed at him, made him so small and then simply walked away.

And Harry had been there. Everything had turned out fine after all.

Moony didn’t need Sirius.

“Hey,” Moony repeated, head tilted in that lovely way of his as he slipped closer. His meandering steps slowly but surely leading him to Sirius. “How are you feeling?”

“Feeling?” Sirius croaked out because Moony was close now, just a couple of feet away.

“Draco told me about the divorce.” Moony sounded so soothing and this close he was even more beautiful. It made Sirius' heart ache. It made him want to fall into Moony’s amber eyes and never emerge. Moony would, after all, always be the definition of home to Sirius.

Home.

“It’s fine,” Sirius said despite him not sounding fine at all. He sounded on the brink of shattering. Like he might be crushed into millions of pieces right here, staining the wooden floors and falling into nooks and corners. “It was a long time coming,” he continued because it was the truth.

“Oh Pads,” Moony whispered and it was really hard. Holding oneself together was really hard and not bursting into tears was even harder. Sirius’ eyes were blank, he knew it.

“Moony,” he managed to breathe out. A small sound so filled with desperation that it boarded on pathetic. Sirius had always prided himself on having a class A poker face, but apparently not today.

Then Moony took another step forward and gingerly embraced Sirius in a hug. His arms were warm and his cardigan smelled of home, smelled of Moony.

Of course Sirius would be unable to stop himself from crying. Of course he would take one inhale and breathe in tea, chocolate and books. Of course he would clutch Moony close with a fierce grip, praying he would never be made to let go.

He was after all, finally home.

***

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, I just couldn't keep myself from giving Sirius and Remus a better ending. I think they deserved one truth be told. :) Otherwise, I'm done with this universe x) Time to move on to new stories :D


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